


You Said We'd See The Stars

by lizziekamiya



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x23, Gen, Post 13x23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 02:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14707055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizziekamiya/pseuds/lizziekamiya
Summary: Lucifer is dead but not all is well and the wounds he left on Sam and Jack still ache.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU SUPERNATURAL LUCIFER IS DEAD. I feel like those munchkins in Wizard of Oz who burst into song after the Wicked Witch of the West melted. Of course, whenever I really like an episode, I promptly write sad things about it.  
> I'm weird like that.

Sam can’t breathe.

He knows he should be springing into action, calling Cas, calling Mom, finding some way to track down Michael and get Dean back (not Dean, not now, not like this) but he can’t move. All he can do is stare at the crumpled body lying on the floor.

Lucifer’s face is oddly peaceful in death and Sam hates him for it. He knows that he never looked so peaceful after the hundreds of times Lucifer killed him in the Cage, then brought him back still soaked in his own blood.

A part of his brain is still locked in frozen apprehension, in the fear that this might be some kind of trick and Lucifer will spring back up the second Sam turns his back and then he’ll...then he’ll…

But no, he had seen Lucifer die, had watched the fiery light blaze as Lucifer let out one last scream. In all the decades he’s known the Devil, he’s never heard Lucifer scream like that.

_“He’s gone. He’s really gone.”_

And it’s like he can finally breathe again as he lets out a breath that he’s been holding for what seems like a lifetime. It comes out as a weird mixture of a sob and a laugh and he can only imagine how crazy he must sound.

“Sam?”

He turns around and the rush of joy drains out of his body to be replaced by a cold, sick feeling. Jack is standing there, one hand on his stomach, his shirt soaked in his own blood.

“Sam,” he repeats faintly, taking a step towards Sam, like a toddler making their way to their parent for the first time, unsure on his feet. “Sam I don’t….I don’t feel so good.”

Sam catches Jack before he hits the floor, cradling the boy’s pale face in his hands. “No no no, Jack? You’re okay, stay with me. I got you. I got you. Jack! Jack!”

 

  
The thing is, Sam’s not sure he’s ever wanted to punch a civilian in the face before. But his nails are digging into his palms as he glares at the nurse and fights the primitive caveman part of his brain that wants to shove right past him.

“Your son is still in a critical condition, Mr. Kline. He lost a lot of blood. We’re doing everything we can, and I’ll keep you up to date, but for now, you need to just try and calm down.”

Other patients in the waiting room stare at the giant whose pacing back and forth around them, whose face is still incredibly swollen from where Lucifer kicked him in the face. It’s been a few hours; Sam has brushed off any nurses who have tried to get him to a doctor, because all that matters right now is that Jack has to be okay.

It’s irrational, but he feels as though a doctor taking care of him would be one less doctor taking care of Jack.

This shouldn’t have happened. The wound wasn’t that deep, but the blood loss was great, and Jack can’t….Jack can’t heal himself right now. Not after Lucifer stole his grace. Sam can’t handle the thought that even in death, Lucifer might have won this battle, and might have killed his own son.

He’s just managed to leave a voice message on Mom’s phone, telling her to call him, explaining in halting words, the horrible thing that happened to Dean.

He left a message for Rowena earlier. “Lucifer’s dead, it’s over. It’s over”. We’re free.

 

 

It’s a relief when Bobby and Mom show up. Mom’s face is pale with fright as she runs into Sam’s arms. They stand like that, holding each other for a bit, before Mary pulls away.

“Is Jack all right?”

“Yeah”. Sam lets out a shaky breath. “He’s stable, and he’s conscious again. Needed a lot of stitches, but he’s going to be okay.”

“Thank God.” Mary closes her eyes, “I thought maybe….I was going to lose two of my boys today.”

“Is it true?” Bobby says abruptly. “Is Michael here now?”

Sam can only nod, and Bobby swears loudly. “What was that idjidt boy thinking? He let Michael in?!”

“He was thinking that nothing could be more dangerous than Lucifer hopped up on Nephilim grace” Sam snaps back at this Bobby, who doesn’t understand Dean, who doesn’t understand how much Dean loves his family.

“So what do we do now?” Mary asks, resigned to another battle, another war.

“First, we’ve got to get Jack out of here.” Sam doesn’t like the idea of moving Jack, but the hospital is already getting suspicious. They were able to tell that the stab wound was self-inflicted, and there are several other bruises on Jack’s torso that appear to be self-inflicted as well.  
_“Jack, what did you do to yourself?”_

“The last thing we need is trying to deal with Child Protective Services. We don’t have time. So…” Sam arches an eyebrow as he looks at the two of them. “Which one of you is up for being the fake nurse?”

 

  
The bunker is oddly silent. Bobby has left to spread word to the other refugees that their old enemy has returned. Cas is out actively hunting for a trace of Michael, which terrifies Sam to no end.

He knows Michael won’t hesitate to kill Cas if he even feels mildly annoyed by him, He remembers Stull Cemetery, all those years ago when Lucifer snapped Sam’s fingers and exploded Castiel into a pile of gore with minimum effort. Or just one year ago, when Sam saw Lucifer drive a blade right through his best friend’s back.

That will never happen again, he reminds himself fiercely. Lucifer is dead. Logically, he knows that Michael is just as dangerous, probably more so since he is in his true vessel. But he’s never feared Michael the way he fears--feared--Lucifer.

One massive weight that has been pressed on his shoulders for eons has finally been lifted, and everything else, as awful as it is, is almost bearable.

Sam’s actually allowing himself to try and go to bed today, rather than spend every hour of the night researching. He’s completely exhausted, his body drained from the constant super high and super low of his emotions.

He’s just about to crawl into bed when he hears the sobbing.

Sam knocks lightly on Jack’s door before softly pushing it open. Jack is curled up into a ball on his bed, his face stitched up, his broken nose covered by a thick padding. Sam knows that there are several other stitches along the boy’s torso.

“Hey,” Sam whispers, reaching for Jack’s shoulder. “Hey bud, you’re okay.”

Jack flinches and pulls away and Sam drops his hand and crouches next to the bed, his height still allowing him to be eye level with Jack. “It’s okay Jack. We’re home.”

Jack sniffles and nods.

Sam remembers with a pang what Dean used to do for him when he was younger and upset and terrified, and Jack is only one year old. One year old and already dealt with more horror and trauma than most adults ever would.  
He sits on the bed next to Jack, though it’s an awkward fit because these beds are hardly big enough for himself, let alone a Sam and an extra person, and pulls Jack close to him.

He rubs Jack’s back and makes reassuring noises as Jack buries his face in Sam’s collarbone and keeps letting out little sobs and gasps.

It’s like that for about ten minutes before Jack finally whispers “I’m sorry.”

“What? No, no, Jack,” Sam tilts the boy’s head up gently so Jack can look at him. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“You...you and the others tried to warn me about what he was like...and I didn’t listen.” Jack chokes on a sob. “I didn’t...want to listen.”

“That’s not your fault,” Sam whispers. “I should have never let him near you.” He should have walked right back into the vampire hoard, should have spat in Lucifer’s face, which would all have been meaningless...but it would have been better than just letting him get to Jack.

“He said...he said we were going to go to the stars.” Jack chokes out.

Sam rests his cheek on the top of Jack’s head. “I know.”

“He said,” Jack licks his lips and croaks out, “that night before we went through the portal. He said….he was proud of me. He said I was the best thing that ever happened to him. He said” and here Jack chokes on another sob, “he said he loved me. Why’d he have to make all that up? Why’d he have to say all that stuff if….he never really meant it?”

A couple of more tears slide down Jack’s face and Sam wipes them away, feeling his own throat burning. “Oh Jack I...I’m so sorry.”

They lay there like that through the night as Sam feels Jack finally slip into sleep, his breath warm against Sam’s chest.

Tomorrow he’s going to find a way to save his brother. But for right now, he’s going to take care of his kid, who has had his heart broken. He’s worried that Lucifer managed to break something loving and trusting and innocent in this boy. But Sam, and Dean, and Cas, and the rest of the family will stay with him and help Jack heal the best he can.


	2. I Don't Wanna Wake It Up, The Devil In Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can an archangel have a ghost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify: this is not Lucifer friendly. This is Lucifer is deranged and dangerous and I think it's fun to poke the crazy archangel with a stick.

What is a nephil without its grace? Technically human, Jack knows, but his grace isn’t completely gone.

He can feel it from time to time, a weight in his belly, but it's not warm and constant the way it used to be. And when he tries to reach for it, to use it, it either barely responds sluggishly or not at all.

  
Jack tried to move that stupid pencil again earlier, and it didn’t budge an inch. Finally, he ended up snapping and just throwing it against the door, right as Castiel walked in. The pencil bounced right off his face.

“It will take time,” Castiel assured him in his quiet, unassuming rumble of a voice. He set the pencil down on the table and placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Your grace has been brutally damaged but it will heal. It did for me. It does for other angels. You just need to focus on resting and healing.”

“But Dean and Michael-”

“Trying to force your powers to come back won’t help Dean. Trust me about this, Jack.”

  
And Jack tries to, he really does, but how can he possibly rest when Michael is out there in Dean’s body?

Jack knows first hand how sadistic and awful Michael can be, and not only does he know that Dean must be in horrific danger, now the entire world he loves so much is in danger.

He keeps having nightmares of the bunker engulfed in flames, of the surrounding city getting leveled and left as nothing but dust and ash just like in the world he and the others left behind.

In his nightmares, Jack sees his friends die, sees Cas, Mary, Sam, and the refugees coldly executed by Michael’s armies while Michael stands there smiling twistedly. And Jack swears he can hear Dean screaming.

And there’s nothing Jack can do because he’s completely useless without his powers. When he wakes up in a cold sweat he’s frightened because he knows how easily his nightmares could become reality, and it would all be his fault.

_“You’d still have your powers, Dean wouldn’t have said yes to Michael if only you had said no to Lucifer. You let him in. You caused this.”_

 

Jack already knows he’s useless, but it’s confirmed for him when Sam and Castiel won’t let him go on a hunt. He wants to scream in frustration because he remembers how easily he held the werewolves back just a few weeks ago. He was useful then. He made sure no one got hurt.

And what if some freak accident happens?

What if angels ambush them and kill Castiel? What if the werewolves manage to get the drop on Sam and tear him apart like those vampires did and Castiel can’t heal him? Jack wouldn’t be able to heal Sam either.

...And it’s not like Lucifer is around anymore to bring Sam back.

Lucifer.

Jack has tried so hard not to think about his father because he knows if he does the lump in his throat will get too big and his eyes will burn and it’s so stupid because he shouldn’t care. He’s glad Lucifer is dead, really. But sometimes it doesn’t feel like the archangel is gone.

Whenever Jack thinks about what happened back in that church, he feels cold all over and his body aches as if Lucifer is still beating him. Jack doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the snarl of rage on Lucifer’s face that night. It will probably keep haunting his nightmares.

He could talk to Sam about this, he knows he could, but there are other parts that he’s ashamed of. The parts of himself that are still so sad and grieving. The part of himself that shamefully wanted to have Lucifer in his life.

When he first met Lucifer the Devil wasn’t anything like what he expected. He was so nice and gentle with Jack and he….he never looked at Jack like he was afraid of him. Everyone else had been afraid of Jack at one point. Dean had looked at him with fear and hate in the beginning, and even Sam had watched him warily from time to time like he expected Jack to pounce.

Lucifer never looked afraid when he was with Jack. He looked at Jack like Jack was special, like Jack was everything he had ever wanted.

Jack knows now that it was all a lie, but he can’t stop thinking about it, wishing, wondering, why, why, why couldn’t things have been different.

_“Why did you have to do this to me, why Father, why?”_

 

It’s been weeks since: Lucifer died and Jack still can’t stop thinking about him. He wonders if, maybe, somehow, the Devil is haunting him. It’s a horrible thought that sends chills down his spine but at the same time, if that is the case, maybe that’s why Jack can’t get him out of his head.

Maybe Jack’s not the problem.

“But we burned the body’. The rational part of his brain pointed out. The red-headed witch, Rowena, hadn’t wanted to.

“Let the maggots and rats eat at him” she’d sneered, after spitting on the corpse. But Sam had shaken his head no.

“The vessel deserves better, Rowena.”

What’s burned stays dead, and sometimes Jack feels like he’s still choking on the smoke from the fire that turned Lucifer to ash.

But maybe the rules are different for an archangel, and if Lucifer’s ghost exists, they’re all in danger and they have to get rid of it. Jack researches all through that night, even though he knows it’s not rational, but he just wants to be able to find something, anything. Anything that will make him feel like he’s not crazy.

  
_“Hey. Wake up, sleepy-head”._

_Jack’s eyes flicker open and he realizes he’s sitting in the front seat of the Impala. Sam is driving, and he glances over at Jack with a small smile. “Hey, sorry to wake you up. We’re home. Wanna help me bring in the groceries?”_

_Jack fumbles with his seat belt until the buckle pops out and he follows Sam into the bunker. Only...when he enters through the door...it’s not the bunker anymore. It’s the church. It’s THE church._

_“Sam…?”_

_The entire room feels so cold as Sam turns around to grin at him. Sam’s eyes are glowing blood-red._

_“You didn’t think you got rid of me that easily, did you kiddo?”_

_Jack can’t breathe. He staggers backward as Sam!Lucifer pins him against the wall. Sam smirks and brushes Jack’s bangs out of his face. “You should know it will take a lot more than death to keep me away from you,” Sam says, as his voice shifts and his face melts and reforms until it’s Lucifer grinning down at him._

_“No,” Jack chokes out, “no, no, no, no….”_

_Lucifer rolls his eyes. “Aw, come on Jack. Don’t be like that.” The Devil pouts. “You’re not still mad at me are you?”_

_Jack stares at him in disbelief. “You…” His voice breaks. “You tried to KILL me.”_

_“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, please.” Lucifer scoffs. “I was never going to actually kill you.”_

_Jack just keeps staring at him._

_“All right, all right, I was pretty pissed off about how things went down,” Lucifer concludes, shrugging, shifting his bulk to keep Jack even more pinned. Lucifer’s wings curl around the both of them, encircling them. “But come on, I was never gonna kill you for good. I would have brought you back. I just wanted to teach you a little respect for your old man, that’s all.”_

_He grins and Jack could swear there’s blood on his teeth. “Spare the rod and spoil the child and all that.”_

_Lucifer reaches out to cup Jack’s chin in his hand, tilting his head up so he’s forced to look his father in the eyes. “I was never gonna kill you, Jack,” he whispers, stroking his thumb across Jack’s cheek. “You don’t have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you, no one wanted you as badly as I wanted you, no one loves you as much as I love you.”_

_Jack feels anger mixing in with his terror. “You’re LYING. All you ever cared about was my power, and you being powerful. That’s all you wanted. Well, you’ve got it now, so why don’t you just….just leave me ALONE.” His voice breaks as the words come spurting out of him like a busted water pipe. “I didn’t ask for you in my life, I didn’t want you in my life, and I...I deserve better than a father that never loved me!”_

_Lucifer slowly takes a step back and Jack staggers forward, breathing hard before he catches the look on the devil’s face. It’s horrible, twisted with pain and rage, and Jack cringes, trying to brace himself for the beating he’s sure is coming._

_“You know that’s not true.” Lucifer whispers and the room seems to drop thirty degrees colder, and Jack can feel icy wind biting through him and whipping across his face._

_“It was never just about your power, I wanted you! I wanted you so badly and you turned your back on me! You’re my child, MINE, you were supposed to be MINE!”_

_Lucifer’s true voice rings through in the last screech, and Jack gasps as he staggers over, clutching at his ears as they burn._

_“I can fix this,” Lucifer is saying desperately as Jack staggers back to his full height, “I can, Jack, I can. I can make it so like everything never happened, we can start over, I promise. Just give me another chance.”_

_Jack feels tears stinging his eyes and he’s not sure its entirely from the cold. “No. You can’t. It’s too broken. It’s all...it’s all wrong.” He bolts away from Lucifer and makes for the stairs. He reaches the door and tries opening it frantically, but the lock is frozen from the cold and he doesn’t have the strength to open it._

_The most ungodly noise echoes behind him._

_“NO! DON’T LEAVE ME! DON’T LEAVE ME JACK!”_

_Jack’s attempts to turn the knob grow more and more frantic, his icy fingers slipping on the metal. “Come on, come on, come on! Sam! Castiel! Sam! Help me!”_

_He pounds desperately on the door. “Somebody help me! Please! Please!”_

  
Jack wakes with a start, his legs tangled in his sheets, gasping with frightened sobs. His bedroom is dark and quiet. He draws in a shaky breath and draws himself into a tight ball.  
He desperately wants to go to Sam, but he and Castiel are still out on their case.

Besides, what would he even say?

Jack realizes, with a sickening feeling in his heart, that the problem isn’t that Lucifer never loved him. The worst part is---realizing maybe the Devil did.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally did not write this solely because I wanted to do Sam with red eyes (glances around shiftily). Anyway hope you guys enjoy!


End file.
